Reborn as the Blissful Wife in the countryside - Chapter 1018: Get Out of My Family’s Shop

“Dear, it's time for your medicine!”The beautiful and pure Holy Daughter brought over the medicine for treating his wounds.On this day, he saw betrayal with his own eyes and experienced despair with his soul...From this day forth, the Hero was dead, send paper offerings if you must!

Your prospects in life are determined by the elemental affinity for magic and streaks of the elements you possess.Logan Kress, a young boy who lost his parents to a plague, loses his elemental streak and affinity but gains something far more potent and potentially lethal in exchange.With his hair now pure white, he can wield magic like never before seen, opening a lot of opportunities for him but inciting the fury of beings infinitely more powerful than him.Read his journey for revenge as he hunts down those responsible for the plague, making allies and creating dangerous enemies along the way.

In the world of Norse mythology, a human boy falls in love with Waltraute, the fourth Valkyrie sister. He wishes to marry her, but Waltraute gives him an impossible challenge to deter him.

Nevertheless, the boy is determined to carry out the dangerous task and to marry Waltraute afterwards.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”